


it runs in the family

by gnarleyquinn



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnarleyquinn/pseuds/gnarleyquinn
Summary: “Sara, wait.” Sara turns around expectantly. Expecting what, exactly, she doesn’t know.“I just-” Kara seems to run over something in her head for a moment before speaking again. “You need help.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey all. This was originally a Nyssara fic I had sitting in my drafts for a while, so I buffed it up a bit and made it a Kara/Sara story. I don't know how many chapters this could/will end up being, but there are so few stories for this pairing so I wanted to get this out there asap. I'm not used to writing this kind of angst, so bear with me lol.
> 
> tumblr: gaycanary.tumblr.com

" _Fuck off."_  

This is the first thing Sara has said to Laurel in two months. She's been able to dodge most of Laurel's calls, but after eight weeks of no contact, her older sister is now standing opposite of her apartment door.  Sara knew this moment would come sooner or later–she just hoped it would be later.  

She stands by for a moment, hoping to hear the sound of footsteps leaving her floor, but all she receives is Laurel’s muffled voice ringing out behind the door. 

"No, Sara. I'm not leaving until you open up." 

Sara groans. She walks over to the door and opens it, just a crack.  

"Thank yo-" Just as Laurel is about to walk in, Sara slams the door shut again.  

"Sara!" 

"I opened the door. Now you can _go away_." 

"Let me rephrase. I'm not leaving until you open the door and have a conversation with me." Each passing second, Sara grows more and more frustrated. She’s had enough of people trying to “reach out” or whatever they try to call it. She just wants to be left alone. 

"What part of fuck off, don't you understand, Laurel? I don't want to talk." 

"Well, you need to." 

At that, Sara rips open the door. Laurel's eyes go wide as Sara stalks forward, backing Laurel into the other side of the hallway. Laurel can feel her sister's breath on her face.  

"Don't tell me what I need _._ I'm sick of people telling me what I need. Because what I _need_ , is for everyone to leave me the fuck alone." 

After the shock of Sara's rage wears off, Laurel's gaze hardens.  

"Have you been drinking?" She thought she could smell alcohol when Sara cracked the door open, but she didn’t want to believe it.  

The blonde's demeanor falters for a moment, but she quickly regains her stance.  

"Does it matter?" 

"Of course it matters. Do you know what would happen if you did something while under the influence? Jail, Sara. We already got you out of it once. Dad and I can't pull strings forever." 

"I never asked you to pull any strings." 

Sara backs away and heads back into her apartment. Before she can shut the door Laurel storms through behind her. She grimaces at the mess and quickly finds a trash can.  

"What do you think you're doing?" Laurel has already cleared Sara's coffee table and is headed for the liquor cabinet. 

"I'm getting rid of this stuff." 

Sara blocked Laurel's path.  

"This _stuff_ is mine."  

"I don't care whose it is. It's not staying here.” Laurel tries to move past the girl, but Sara shoves her back.  

"I said this stuff is mine. If you don't like it, leave." At least when her father visits he spares her the lectures and just asks how she’s doing. Laurel has never really been one for pleasantries, she will admit. 

"You know firsthand that I like this stuff too much. And Dad, and apparently you as well. I thought after what happened, you would stay away from it." 

Sara feels a cold chill run down her spine. 

"You don't get to talk about what happened." Laurel puts down the trashcan. 

"Well someone has to! For god’s sake, you can't keep living like it's not real. What you did-" 

"What _I_ did, is none of your business." 

"Sara, listen to me! Running away from your problems is what got you into this mess in the first place.” Laurel walks closer to Sara and rests a hand on her shoulder. Her tone softens. "Why won't you let me help you?" 

Sara shrugs off the hand and crosses her arms over her chest.  

"I never asked for your help before, and I'm not asking for it now. I'll deal with my own shit. Now get the hell out of my apartment." 

"Sara-" 

"Out, Laurel!” 

The sisters stare down for a moment before Laurel shakes her head and turns around. She picks up her purse and heads for the door. She pauses once she reaches it. 

“I talked to Alex. Kara’s doing okay. Incase you were wondering.” 

At that, Laurel turns around and shuts the door so gently that Sara cringes as if it were slammed. She sighs heavily as she walks over to her beat up couch. She pushes the reminder of Kara out her mind and rests her head in the palms of her hands. 

What does it matter if she was drinking? She’s already screwed up her life. No need to try and salvage something that’s past the point of fixing. Sara is prepared to spend the rest of her days in sorrow. She figures she at least owes everyone that.  

And if she can accept her fate, why can’t Laurel? It’s not like no one saw this coming. Sara had been ruining lives since the day she was born. Might as well continue on with the trend, right? 

With that in mind, Sara reaches for a half empty beer bottle that Laurel missed and takes a sip. She stares at it for a while, watching the beads of sweat slowly roll down the glass exterior. Just as she is about to down the rest of the bottle, her ringtone goes off. Sin had texted her earlier in the day, inviting her to a house party back in National City, but Sara declined.  

Sin (10:43 PM): Change of plans. Banger in Central 2nite. Me & Roy will b there. U in? 

Sara looks back down at her lukewarm beer.  

Sara (10:44 PM): where to? 

*** 

Sara knows she lives in a bad part of Central City; probably one of the worst. But this area makes it seem like she lives in utopia. The Glades can’t even compare to how run-down this place is, and half of the buildings in The Glades aren’t even standing. 

Nonetheless, she continues on down the street, following the sounds of deafeningly loud trap music. After she turns the last corner, her jaw drops. Sin’s description of a banger was a massive understatement. The entire block is filled with people. The crowds are spilling out of two dilapidated brownstones, those of which are filled top to bottom from what Sara can see. She looks up toward the roof, where Sin told her they’d be spending the night.  

Apparently some grossly rich grad students had bought up a couple of buildings for a start up, but before they redid the complexes, they wanted to throw a huge party. Not only would it promote their company, but it would get the people in the area on their good side. Free booze can make anyone your friend around here.  

Up on the roof is where the owners are supervising the party. Sin said it was an exclusive area but, “Abercrombie has been doing it dirty with one of the money bags and got us the in.”  

Sara won’t say she’s ungrateful, but she’s not sure the VIP section is where she fits best.  

After pushing through the crowd in the street, she reaches the entrance of one of the buildings and hopes it’s the right one. She begins to push her way through the rowdy crowd up the stairs, holding her breath when passing an especially sweaty group. After about fifteen minutes of walking through what was basically a five hundred person orgy, she makes it to the rooftop doors. There is a security guard who she recognizes to sometimes travel with the Queen’s. He asks for her name and whether he recognizes it or not, he doesn’t let it show.  

When she walks through the door, Sara is surprisingly pleased. Not only is the party much cleaner up here, but it seems to be much more calm than the rave happening below.  

There is a decent sized dance floor and a well stocked bar, so there isn’t really anything to complain about. Sara texts Sin as soon as she enters the area and the smaller girl finds her right away. 

“Sara! Nice of you to finally join us!” Sara gives Sin a pointed look. She looks around and sees no sign of Roy. 

“I think you’d need one other person for there to be an us. Where’s Roy?” 

“I told you, he’s been getting it on with one of the investors. She’s pretty well known I hear.” Sin points to where Roy is talking with Thea Queen. 

“Wait, he’s screwing Thea Queen?” Sara is surprised. They’re both good looking people, sure, but she has no idea how they even met in the first place.  

“Is that her name? Roy told me they were in the middle of making a deal for some party she was throwing, used her number for more than just a payment plan.” 

Roy and Sin run a small side business on the weekends. Sara is pretty lenient with the law, but she tries to stay away from their area of expertise. The vertigo formula has been fixed, but it surely isn’t something she wants to get involved with—even if it means sacrificing a good high. She could almost get the same effects with a bottle of vodka anyway.  

Speaking of which. 

“Hey Sin, I’m getting a little thirsty.” Sin smirks. 

“Right this way.” 

Sin leads the pair toward the bar. It’s a makeshift counter, but it’s stocked to survive an apocalypse. As they approach the bartender, Roy and Thea walk up.  

“Roy Harper. Not whipped, are we?” Sara says jokingly as Roy rolls his eyes. She’s never really known his feelings on monogamy, but he always seemed like the type to put on a collar for a lady.  

“You’re funny.” Roy says as Thea goes in to hug Sara. 

“Hey, Speedy, how’s it going? Start taking business classes or something?” Sara asks Thea as she gestures to the area surrounding them. Thea chuckles. 

“Well, had you not left Star City so abruptly, you would know that Ollie signed over Verdant to me. He was busy and I was bored, and the next thing you know I take over. Then these college kids come in one night and start talking money. No one knows this scene better than me, so I joined in on the fun.” 

Sara tries to brush off Thea’s comment about her disappearance. The only people who know why she left are Laurel, her father, Alex, and Kara. _Kara._ She makes a mental note to stop thinking about that name. Not wanting to ruin her buzz, she jokes along with Thea. 

“You think you know this scene better than me, Speedy?” Thea laughs. 

“Not even Thea Queen is as qualified in this field as Sara Lance. But I do seem to have a knack for this whole business thing. Maybe I am Robert’s daughter after all.” Sara laughs and goes in for another hug. Only Thea would crack jokes about being the product of an affair.  

“It was nice seeing you, Thea. Don’t keep Roy’s leash too short, alright?” Thea replies with an, “I won’t.” and Roy gives Sara a sickly sweet smile and wave goodbye. As Thea and Roy walk away, Sara notices them heading toward a small group of people, presumably being the other owners of the start-up. She isn’t surprised to see Barry Allen and Ray Palmer in the mix. 

Sara chimes an impressed hum and turns around to face the bar. She grabs the first bottle she sees from the counter and drags Sin onto the dance floor. They dance for what Sara wishes were forever and they drink for even longer than that. By the time they are introduced to the other investors, Sara is borderline black out drunk. Nonetheless, she still finds the time to hit on one of them. For a while, she tries to get the girl to go home with her, but she is rejected each time she makes a move. Around the fifth time she receives a firm no, Sara decides to cut her losses and start the trek home. She doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, too focused on making it to her couch before she passes out. 

Sara can’t remember the girl’s name for the life of her—or what she looked like, for that matter—but as she walks home from the party all she hears in her mind is _that_ _accent_. Sara doesn’t know where that girl is from, but she’d gladly go there anytime. Well, she’s only fifty percent positive that this girl was a girl, (Sara is having a hard time remembering if _she_ is even a girl) but even if this voice belonged to a guy, she wasn't going to discriminate. 

Sara isn’t picky about gender. She just wants to have a good time. 

The longer she walks, the harder it becomes to stay standing. She’s pretty sure walking home is supposed to sober her up a bit, but then she remembers the shotgunning contest she had with Roy right before she left. She hasn’t been this drunk since— 

Well, Sara doesn't talk about the last time she was this drunk, but this time around she has no car so it’s significantly more fun. Scratch that. It _was_ fun.  

Almost a block away from her apartment, Sara trips on the sidewalk. A small yelp escapes her mouth as the side of her head smacks against a fire hydrant. She winces as she raises a hand to where a gash has started bleeding.  

“Well if I wasn’t getting a nasty hangover already.” She says aloud.  

Sara attempts to stand up, but she immediately begins to fall over again, barely catching herself on the links of a nearby fence. She squints through the holes in the chainlinks and sees a quiet alley ahead of her. She probably shouldn't go into the alley alone, but she’s too drunk for reasoning. Also, she’s about two steps away from vomiting her guts out, so the dark death trap is definitely the best option she has. 

Just as she begins to lean against the musty bricks, she hears footsteps quickly approaching from the darker part of the area. She squints her eyes to try and make out who it is, but her blurry vision doesn’t mix well with the dark.  

She manages to get out a slurred hello, but it doesn’t seem like the person hears her, or cares to hear her. The last thing she sees is the figure running toward her, shouting something she can’t make out. 

*** 

As Sara wakes, she notices three things. The first thing is that she is not in her living room. She’s neither surprised by this fact, nor angry, just confused as she remembers being rejected that British woman multiple times. Not her smoothest moment, she’ll admit. 

Eyes adjusting to the brightness, she tries to sit up and immediately notices the second thing: her head is pounding as if a major league baseball player had used her head as a batting tee. She quickly, but gently, begins to scan the room for pills or _anything_ —which she promptly finds in front of her on the coffee table—when she notices the third thing. 

She recognizes this apartment. The couch, the coffee table, the windows. The pictures surrounding her on the wall. She stops looking at them the moment she sees one of _her._  

This is Alex Danvers’ apartment. Which from her estimations (or Laurel’s frequent text updates) means that- 

“Sara,” A loud yet hesitant voice booms from the other side of the room, “You’re awake.” 

Sara finds the source of the voice walking out of the bedroom. Sara sucks in a breath. This isn’t the ending she had foreseen for her night. She hasn’t really seen this coming, period. She kind of had plans to never see Kara face-to-face again. She understands now that that was a good call to make. If there’s anything that could make Sara want to down a few, it’s seeing Kara in the state that she’s in. Sara knows Laurel said that Kara was doing okay, but the bags under her eyes speak otherwise. 

All-in-all, Kara just looks..disheveled. Sara wonders if she looks the same. 

“Yeah, uh,” Sara clears her throat, “We didn’t-” She gestures between the two, “Did we?” 

Kara eyes widen for a moment and then she furiously shakes her head.  

“No! No-I was-Well you, you were-” Kara closes her eyes and takes a breath. Opening them, she continues. “You don’t remember anything that happened last night?” 

Sara shakes her head no and tries to ignore the disappointment she notices swirling around in Kara’s eyes. Kara takes another deep breath. There seems to be a lot of those going around right now. 

“For starters, you hit your head pretty hard on something. I couldn’t tell what, but I cleaned the cut and put a bandage on it. You might want to get it checked out.” Sara didn’t respond to that. They both know she won’t get it seen by a doctor. 

Sara rubs at the back of her neck.  

“What else happened?”  

“Well, you were drunk,” Kara practically spits the words out, probably more harsh than she meant to, but they sting all the same, “And I was walking to where I parked my car, and I just saw you, in the alley.”  

Sara ducks her head. 

“I couldn’t just leave you there. And I don't know where you're living now, so..I picked you up and here we are.” 

Both girls fall silent. The air is tense, and Sara decides she should leave. She pops up off the couch, playing off her head pain a lot more than she thinks is possible, and grabs her things. She speaks to Kara as she heads for the door. 

“Thank you for the help, but I shouldn’t-” She pauses as her gaze hits another photograph. She notices Kara’s eyes follow hers, and the girl deflates a bit. Sara looks up and they lock eyes. “I’m sorry for all the trouble.” 

Both girls know the underlying message in that statement. Sara chokes back a few tears and rushes for the door handle when Kara reaches out.  

“Sara, wait.” Sara turns around expectantly. Expecting what, exactly, she doesn’t know. 

“I just-” Kara seems to run over something in her head for a moment before speaking again. “You need help.”  

Sara looks away and sucks in a shaky breath. She knows that Kara is right. She knows that Laurel, and her dad are right. She knows she has a problem, and she knows she needs help. But she also knows that she doesn’t _want_ it.  

“I appreciate the concern, Kara.” Sara gives the other girl a small smile, and Kara looks like she's waiting for Sara to say more. Instead, Sara opens the door and heads out for good. She shuts the door lightly, and winces when she hears the beginning echos of Kara’s sobs. A few tears of her own slip out at the sound. She practically runs out of the building.  

As she exits, she knocks into someone in her haste and upon looking up, she sees that it's Alex. Sara freezes, and Alex looks confused.  

“Sara! Um, what are you doing here?”  

“Kara, she uh, she helped me out last night.” 

Alex releases a surprised “Oh,” and Sara, averting her eyes anywhere but Alex’s face, takes that as a queue to keep talking.  

“Listen, just tell her I said thanks, again.” Alex nods at the instructions, and steps forward a bit when she notices Sara’s darting eyes.  

“Do you need a ride home?” Alex offers, and Sara wants to laugh at the incredulity of the entire situation.  

“No, thank you. I think you should head inside. Kara needs you.”  

Alex nods her head again, not sure what to say, but before she can say anything, Sara is practically halfway down the block.  

She walks as far as she can until it becomes too cold to continue on, and hails a taxi.  

She directs it to the nearest bar. 

   
 

 


End file.
